Ruby Spencer's Whisky Year by Rochelle Bilow

Author:Rochelle Bilow [Bilow, Rochelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2023-02-14T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

—

Ruby and Brochan arrived back in Thistlecross shortly before noon, and found Grace literally wringing her hands in the kitchen. Brochan had intended to drop off the picnic supplies and Ruby wanted to check in on a batch of no-knead bread dough she had in the pantry, slowly fermenting. The butcher block table was covered in flour, and from the smell of it, a batch of scones was quietly incinerating in the oven.

“Grace, were you worried? Didn’t you get my message?” Brochan asked, touching his aunt on her upper arm. “I promised I’d keep Ruby safe and here she is.”

Ruby’s eyes jumped from Brochan to Grace. She’d known they were together, of course.

Grace shook her head. “No, no. It’s . . .” She thumped her elbows onto the block and threw her head in her hands. Brochan looked to Ruby. Ruby approached Grace. She touched her back and waited for her to speak.

“When you’re ready. We’re listening.”

“Might as well just spit it out. Anne Dunbar was here,” Grace said. “She came to tell me that the town has received an offer to buy the Cosy Hearth.” Grace swallowed the lump in her throat and clarified: “Buy it, kick us out, tear this place to its studs, and build a new restaurant in its place.”

“Did she say who the buyer was?” Ruby asked.

“You remember the box of uniforms? It’s him.” Both women looked at Brochan after Grace spoke. His muscles flexed as his hands became fists. He bore down hard on his jaw. Ruby pretended to be shocked. She bugged her eyes and blinked them. Hopefully, it was convincing.

“Maybe you can appeal to Anne’s better nature?” Ruby said.

“She has none,” said Brochan. “I bloody knew it.”

Grace shook her head. “It’s hers to do with what she wants. The town owns this building, and the cottage, too. The . . . previous owner sold it when he left.”

“It’s all right, Grace,” Brochan said gently. “She knows about my da.”

Grace looked up from her palms, which had been catching tears. “So you understand, then, why this hurts all the more.” Ruby nodded quietly. She was trying to empathize with Grace and Brochan, and she was scared to lose the only place that had felt like home deep down in her soul.

“It’s one thing to sell scones to the Traveler. I didn’t mind fading away, so long as I can do it in my own time. But now . . .” Grace’s voice trailed off. “I’ll have nowhere to live. Nowhere to go.”

“She won’t just turn you out on the street,” Ruby said, but Brochan’s face betrayed the fact that he didn’t feel the same. He looked tired. Dejected. He looked every second of his years and then some.

“That bitch. That bloody, selfish bitch.” Ruby could feel Brochan’s anger reverberating from his body in waves, and she startled at the hot and dark word.

Brochan threw the thermos against the wall. The lid cracked and fell into the sink; the carafe rolled onto the floor.

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